The Lemonade
by Chloe Fluer
Summary: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Lemonade

**Author**: Chloe Fluer

**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

**Chapter 01**

Two days after Christmas I went online and bought myself a one-way ticket from my warm and sandy Phoenix to rainy and cloudy Seattle.

According to Wikipedia, Port Angeles was the largest city on the Olympic Peninsula with a little over 18, 000 inhabitants. But Port Angeles was not to be my final destination. With one more call to my distant father, Charlie, he would be the one waiting for me at the Port Angeles airport to take me to Forks, town I was born in.

I hadn't been to Forks since I was 11 years old, when I finally put my foot down on how I would spend summer with my dad. After that, Charlie took me to California for two weeks. My inner self thrilled at the prospect of warm, sandy beaches and sunsets. When I thought about college it was always Arizona, California, Texas, or maybe Nevada or New Mexico.

I expected that the talk with Renée would be less difficult, but Charlie once again proved to be more of a mystery for me. Even though I was not able to see his face, I heard the confusion and joy in his voice, which I hadn't in just about, well ever.

Charlie and I hadn't spent father-daughter quality time together in ages. He felt guilty for not being able to spend more time with me, and this gave us a chance to get know each other again before I went off to college. We talked about school and friends, but never about something that really mattered like books and music. Occasionally he asked about boys, but I just couldn't talk to him about that because there just wasn't anything to tell. Honestly, even if there were, I just couldn't talk to Charlie about that...it was just too embarrassing.

Being a chief of police, Charlie knew the worst case scenarios of dating in large cities such as Phoenix. Apparently, one out of three teenagers has experienced violence in a dating relationship, but I could not picture any of the guys from my classes getting violent. Besides, for a long time, I was not attracted to any of them. Book characters were always more intriguing, but let's face it, they were fiction.

Renée was shocked, to say the least, but after years of dealing with the good and the bad, loving her for who she was without change and just acceptance and being loved by her, I knew her well enough to explain that this was going to be a great thing. Charlie always tried to get to know me during summers and I collected enough information from him to know that my mother's departure when I was three months old was, in his eyes, considered a betrayal of family values on Renée's part. Ever since my mother found her match in Phil, I was drawn into rethinking my life. And when it came to Charlie, I sucked big time. I could not write down 12 things about my dad. I did not know what he liked to do, beside his job and fishing. I did not know when he would wake up, what kind of coffe he liked or what his dreams were when he was my age. I didn't even know how he voted in the last or any election.

Many kids in school were part of two households due to divorces, but most of the people I communicated with thought that I did not have a father. I was shocked when I overheard my second grade teacher saying to the school's psychologist how I was withdrawn and shy because I didn't have a father. In my mind, it translated that my father died, when in fact, her comment was appropriate for my situation. My father was not a part of my life, but that was not the reason why I was "withdrawn and shy".

Renée could attest to that. My upbringing was quite liberal, and she told me the story of the birds and bees when I was nine years old. The first time I demonstratively left her alone in crafts room and closed myself in my bedroom at the age of eleven, she forced herself in and told me all about sex. Apparently, when your child demands to be alone all of a sudden, that's when they start thinking about sex.

I guess there was a book with those signals all written out, but the book was wrong. I was not thinking about sex. In fact, I actually started thinking about it when Renée and Phil got less careful with their "private time."

My mom taught me that the sexual connection between a man and a woman was something to be celebrated, and that it could be the most extraordinary experience shared with the right person. Or persons. Being open about your sexuality was always the right path.

All of that, plus several books we read together on this subject, could not prepare me for the amount of sex she and Phil were obviously having. I was aware of that before they were married and apparently, up until December, they had sex in every single room in our small little house.

All the signs were there: blushes, sweats, ripped clothes and messy hair. Phil would sometimes stutter afterward. Of course, he would be embarrassed about his sex life with my mother in front of me. He was after all, only nine years older than me and, by my classmate's remarks, "quite a hottie."

It would be very wrong of me to publicly agree on this last matter.

It was Halloween night that changed everything for me. My mother was married to Phil for over two months at the time, and I was hoping that seeing a real man walking around half naked in a towel would not turn me into a horny teenaged girl. But I was not above my hormones or wet dreams.

I was starting to regret not taking Brian's invitation to Jessica's Masquerade party. That would at least give me some kind of release. Brian was interested in me, getting to know my opinions on books I would have my nose in during lunch time. I, on the other hand, was more interested in jumping him, so I would not get instantly aroused when I would see my stepfather walking out of a shower every evening, and morning.

This wasn't fair. Really. I was happy for my mom. Phil was generally a good guy, very relaxed and hardworking. He wasn't particularly smart or well read, but a baseball player did not need those qualities anyway. So, it wasn't like I was falling for him or having dreams about being with him. I was just desperately turned on by naked male flesh. Live. I heard about that feeling from girls in locker room in school. The feeling of pure lust and wanting, needing to touch and collide bodies while testing your lungs' limits.

The lack of experience with guys my age made this all even more difficult. I did not know how to hide the obvious marks of my attraction and addiction to Phil's presence.

Halloween night was when I was absolutely sure I needed to move away from Renée and Phil or I would do something reckless and stupid.

After helping the neighbor's kids with their costumes and masques, I went home and came in from the backyard to put the past day's dirty clothes in the washer and take a shower in the smaller bathroom so as not to wake up the newlyweds.

So, there I was again, being a good and responsible daughter, good neighbor and overly punctual. From the moment I put my keys down on a small kitchen table, I knew something was off. It was too dark in the house, all the lights were off and I could not hear the commercials from the flat screen in the living room. Instead, there were these … grunts?

As I approached the door that was connecting the kitchen to hallway and the stairs, I could hear it more clearly. Shallow grunts and the stairs shaking? I did not know what I expected to see after pulling the doors, but I did it anyway.

Whatever went through my head seconds before seeing the act that was presented before me in that small tight hallway, went into a dusk of lost memories. There was the hottie of my stepfather, in all his naked glory with only a wizard's hat hanging on his head. His "cloak" was tossed on the wooden stairs and his pants were around his ankles with my mother's legs around his waist. I could not move. I was mesmerized with seeing this thing every person I know talked about. Sex. Naked, upstanding, loud, panting.

Time slowed and my skin started to heat as tiny beads of sweat began to gather on my neck and underneath my blouse. The muscles across Phil's back flexed with every thrust, as his thighs seemed to strain with the effort of remaining upright. With their faces obscured, my mind only registered two moving bodies, tunnel vision preventing me from fully considering what it was I had actually stumbled across.

Panting gave way to violent animalistic grunts and the sounds of slapping skin echoed throughout the tight, small hall. Angry red scratch marks ran down the length of his back, and I let out the breath that I had been holding for very long time. I couldn't help the dampness pooling in my panties as I thought about craving someone so much that I would feel the need to mark them.

His thrusting intensified and a feminine moan filtered through my hazy bubble. I reached out a hand to steady myself against the wall, fearful that my legs might give out from under me. Without warning, what I assumed to be an orgasmic shriek from her was followed by a strained and guttural growl from him, and I was pulled from my voyeurism.

"Christ, Renée. That was intense." Phil's gravelly voice rasping out my mother's name followed by her breathy laughter, hit me like a slap in the face.

For all intents and purposes, I had just watched my mother have sex with her young hot husband.

It took me over five days to be able to look her in eyes. She was embarrassed as well and tried to make a joke out of the situation. Like it was _funny_ that she and Phil have finally baptized every single room in our house, and that now there would be no more wild sexing. Phil stopped taking showers while I was awake or in the house during daylight. To say that he was uncomfortable would be the understatement of the year. Plus he stopped calling me Izzy and driving me to school on Fridays.

I couldn't blame him. My usually milky skin turned to royal scarlet after that night. While my inner world now got fresh, quite vivid material to work with and adjusted all the details in order to satisfy the hungry beast that wanted more, like the sounds of skin to skin contact; the real me was overwhelmed by all the sexual content that took over my imagination. I would write the previous sentence more like this "While I have more vivid fodder for my fantasies, like the actual sounds of skin to skin contact, the real me was overwhelmed by all the sexual content overwhelming my imagination." -Bekah Fleis 1/13/10 4:00 PM

This was exactly why being seventeen was the time to start messing around with boys and exploring the boundaries of what feels good. The weirdest part was that I was no longer thinking about Phil as much as about the act of a man and a woman being so close that they are making these sounds only coyotes could decode. Those low grunts and pants that made my insides burn slightly and sticky wetness slip through my folds to soak my panties.

I needed a change of environment, and I wrote down a plan in order to make it until Christmas in this house. So, I could cook the rest of the plan to let Renée finally live the life on road she wanted to when she bailed out adventure-less sure what this sentence means... -Bekah Fleis 1/13/10 4:29 PM

I talked to Renée after I got off the phone with Charlie, and it was intense to say the least. She tried to get me to change my mind and to talk about the _Halloween incident_, as I was calling it , but there was no going back. I made my decision in order to save myself embarrassment of ogling my stepfather after showers. That night made me think about all of the things I had to fix in order to save my sanity.

To take Renée's attention off the obvious, I started dating Brian Freedman. Renée was thrilled. Never before had I shown interest in a boy. He was kind, neat, predictable and he was the only son of a well-known college professor. For a girl that was considerate nice and attentive, dating Brian on limited time made me a first class bitch in my own ranks. An after school special would love to have a character like me as a guest star, but at least I could say that it was very clear that I needed to spend more time with my dad, in order to get to know him again.

I started making a list of things I would need to bring to Forks with me. After some research, I soon realized I would be moving away from one of the sunniest places in the world to one of the wettest and coldest places in continental US. That fact made me take Phil and his car shopping for some new warmer clothes. I was going to need sweaters, a nice warm winter coat, gloves, scarfs, cap, dark jeans and boots. Rain boots, which I have not had since I was five years old, preferably a set of those hideous yellow rubber boots. Or maybe orange. Orange would work better with all the green mush in Forks.

I knew Phil and Renée were running low on cash with Phil's uncertain baseball coach future on East side, but after I purchased plane tickets with my own savings, they insisted on getting me what I needed for Forks. Phil brought boxes from Fed-Ex so I could pack CDs, books and school supplies. Charlie enrolled me in Forks High School the same day I called him and my teachers had already begun the process of transferring my records. I would have to change some courses. Mr. Miles was not happy with the fact that Forks High School was not offering AP Biology, the course he was teaching and in which I was doing so well. I wasn't upset by that of course. It wasn't like I was planning on going pre-med. I really enjoyed more creative classes anyways like English, History, etc.

So this move to Forks was temporary, something to put up with for a little while, and then I could go to the sunny colleges I had already chosen. I could do this...it's only temporary.

Just as was my so called relationship with Brian. He realized that something was very wrong from the first few days we started seeing each other after school. He tried to talk to me about what ever was bothering me, but it just made me feel even more like a mean character from Dawson's Creek.

I am ashamed to say that this scam of mine managed to get on my list of firsts. Yes, my very first teenage kiss was with Brian. And to make it even worse, he was such a sweet, attentive kisser. His lips were very gentle, and he caressed my cheek and hair on my shoulders while our lips were in contact. I liked the kiss and I hated myself for that. Telling Brian I was moving to Washington was easy compared from banging my head in my bedroom like Dobby after kissing him back. He wanted to hear from me after I settled in Forks.

On January 15th, the day before my flight to Washington state, my last delivery from Amazon arrived. I got Renée "_The South Beach Diet Cookbook_" , myself "_The Kite Runner_" by Khaled Hossein, "_The Dante Club_" by Matthew Pear and one book I thought would be the adventure to read: "_Running With Scissors_" by Augusten Burroughs. That last one was probably a little out of my range of taste, but I thought since I was moving away to a place I detested as a child, maybe a new type of literature would be a good thing for me. But that was not everything I packed in the delivery box. There was another book there, a book so girly, that neither Renée or I would take from the bookshelf for fear of embarrassment. It was a hardcover book with hot baby pink cover and a picture of a girl changing a lightbulb. The title was in cursive font. "_How to Walk in High Heels" The Girl's Guide to Everything_ by Camilla Morton, a special gift from Amazon for ordering during Christmas week.

I had a little time to decide what to take with me on plane. I already had my iBook ready, some tissues, mp3 player and decided to take "_The Kite Runner_", "_Running with Scissors_" and a hot chick book. "_The Dante Club_" will have take its chances with Renée. Reading about murders in style of Dante's Inferno would not be a good thing to do in Forks while living with the Chief of police. The girly book would have to do and perhaps give a new perspective on a how to be glamorous, even in the small town of Forks.

**A/N** - I need to thank many people for encouraging me to go with this story even when I was sure it was lame and useless.

**Charmie77 **first helped back in August when this was merely a one shot and I was completely lost.

**Linsey **or** phoenixhunter47 - **for the huge push to peruse this. I actually pulled her out of a WC and said - "I am of no use. This lemon needs to be written and I just can't do it." she was so cool and just wrote "let me see if I can help". That's how the Renée&Phil scene was written by her and it was all it needed to give me wings.

**all the WC people** - you are great community, full of advice and encouragement. I wrote 90% of this story in WCs and I wouldn't have done it without you ladies.

finally to **FrogQueenLaurel - **for being my beta, reading my mind through gtak and gdocs and all the encouragement.

I was told that reviews are bonbons.

Can I have some :D ?


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: The Lemonade

**Author**: Chloe Fluer

**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

**Beta**: FrogQueenLaurel, thank you for all the help and support =)

The flight turned out to be more of an adventure than I thought it would. The plane from Phoenix to Seattle was packed. We were late with the take off and as a result with the landing. But I had a three hour break before my flight to Port Angeles, so I did not let it upset me. It was not possible to read with so any people so close invading my personal space. So I just plugged my ears and lounged my into the land of trash 90's music. From Spice Girls to Kelly Family, I made it to Seattle and hooked on the family gypsy sound.

I took the pause between flights to text Renée, let her know that the food on board was awful, but that there were no smelly people within smell sensitive space. All in all, a decent four hour flight.

During the three hour layover, the pink book in my handbag was itching. Itching to get out and be looked through. Actually, the paper wrapping was soft pink, the actual book cover was black with silver letters. Black was more appropriate color for book read by Isabella Swan. I needed to get rid of nice, shy Bella. I do like being Bella, but perhaps new surroundings would let me explore other sides of a true Virgoan. Renée had an astrological phase and managed to make personal portraits of herself and her only beloved daughter. Apparently, I was "_very subordinate and a servant of others_". I also "_pay constant attention to detail, which makes me a very careful worker, especially in tasks requiring observation and exactitude_". There were other details that made it into a sketch book dedicated to the Astrology period of little Renée's life, but these would always make me shudder.

The pages were soft and yellowish. The right kind of paper for a book to be read with pleasure and refined satisfaction. That kind of paper was reserved for Henry James or Edith Wharton. What did this woman do to deserve this kind of paper ? Wasn't there a rule, some kind of an order, or a list of requirements an author should meet to have his or her book printed on this kind of paper.

"Who is this woman ?"

Bella, aren't you too young to be talking to yourself already? There was a wretchedly old woman sitting on the opposite bench. She was examining me with her eyes that were full of pure curiosity and obvious chattiness.

"I'm an old soul. But I tend to keep it to myself." I gave her my honest and sweetest smile.  
Smart ass! Shouldn't you keep the inner world for yourself ? Talking to strangers is not helping you to appear sane. Keeping your inner world on a leash is a good thing. My mother knows I am busy inside my head, that does not mean I should let everyone else know that I am . . . Busy.

The book was still screaming for attention. I managed to open my iBook and connect to an open free server at the airport. The access was limited, but it was good enough to check out the information I was searching for.

Camilla Morton. There was a flashy personal web site. Apparently, Camilla was born in UK, but she spent some time in Paris, thus she was fluent in French. And that was all it took for me to shut down the browser and the laptop.

I opened the book to the information page. The information about the publisher, ISBN, addresses. On the opposite page there was a dedication.

"_For aspiring Cinderellas everywhere . . . And to John and Manolo for waving their magic wands_"  
Skipping the preface and Contents, I reached to the Part one: _Greeting Your Public.  
"Cinderella, you shall go to the ball" - The Fairy Godmother_

Basically, this book was a fairytale crack guide for modern chicks.

So in order to learn how to be stylish, I was obligated to read Cinderella at the age of seventeen. My knowledge of the tale was limited. Renée had a feminist world view and as a result, I was protected from all the fluffiness of the Disney movies and brothers Grimm tales. In fact, I was acquainted with _Cinderella_ when I was eleven years old. But it was the other kind of _Cinderella_. It was the time when the movie "Ever After" came out and Renée was very happy with the ideas and values it carried. The protagonist, Danielle, was feisty and courageous, which apparently, the original _Cinderella_ was not. Danielle was educated, independent and smart. She did not wait for the prince to rescue her; she rescued him. In marriage she was looking for a partnership of equals, not one dominant and one submissive. Renée thought that all the classic fairy tales were a product of a patriarchal society, containing expectations of woman's place and rights in society. She told me how "_Cinderella_" was written to reinforce positive and negative attributes of women in Christian society. Yeah, the Grimm brothers had the idea of running the world's course, tormenting women because their mothers did not give them chocolate when they were kids.

When I would argue with Renée, she would sit and explain that the tale of _Cinderella_ and all the other fluffy fairy tales, were created by a patriarchal society that expected men to have power over women and women to adopt the values imposed on them by men. Those were selflessness, modesty, beauty, submissiveness, wealth . . . The whole concept of women belonging to men is evident throughout the fairy tale. Believe me, I was forced to listen to stories about Simone de Beauvoir and about feminism and the woman's movement in comparison of proletariat. Not an interesting story, when you actually want to know about the girl and the boy.

Well, waiting for the plane I gave in. In the second sentence of the first chapter, a guy named Gore Vidal was quoted saying: "_Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn._". I only know about him from the journal of extraordinary Anais Nin. Renée and I had a phase where we were obsessed with her and while I have to admit I lost interest in her adventures after volume one of her dairies, however, I would still write two of her quotes that I believed and honored, on the cover of my notebook or messbook.

"_This diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe. This is my drug and vice._"

After flying for four hours in a Boeing 747, or Jumbo Jet, the white metal 'thing' that was to transport me and nineteen other people from Seattle to Port Angeles could hardly be called an airplane. It might have been one of those used for agricultural purposes, for overseeing the crops. This tight rural plane was spacey enough to accommodate twenty passengers and two flight attendants. The flight was bumpy due to heavy rain and winds in the upper atmosphere, so the landing was rough and my ass hurt like it would after falling while roller-skating. Even the pilots were looking forward to landing at the Port Angeles airport.

And there was my summer dad, Charlie all dressed up in his uniform. But it wasn't the chief of police uniform that made him stand out. It was a sunshine smile that was all over his face. I suddenly remembered the joy in his voice when I asked him to take me in. It was radiant even over the phone all the way in Phoenix and I couldn't help but to feel guilty for using him for bailing me out of the shitty situation at home. Because, Phoenix was still home. Yes, I was born in Forks, but that rainy, cloudy, mushy place was not home. Nor was Port Angeles. And I needed to spend about an hour in cruiser with Police Chief Swan, driving within speed limits to get to our hometown, Forks. Charlie probably never would have left Washington state if it weren't for me. He could never understand the necessity of leaving Forks for anything. We would need to talk about that. As far as I remembered, Forks did not have a decent bookstore or a place to buy nice thick paper. Ordering online was not an option anymore. I would need to talk with him about regular trips to Olympia or Seattle.

"Bells ! It is you !"

"Yeah dad. I wouldn't send an impostor this far, I promise." I teased him while he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed, placing a kiss on my forehead. He grabbed my suitcase and my duffel bag all in one pull with his other arm still around me and headed to the cruiser.

"I'm so glad you still don't have the same car air freshener as last summer." I said as I was playing with _new_ green little tree that was spreading the scent of freshly cut grass and bergamot.

"I have a new partner and she gets agitated with any other smelly object hanging in the cruiser, so . . . "

"What other smelly objects would chief of police have in his cruiser, father ?" I couldn't believe this situation! I was chatting with Charlie, only several minutes after I got off the plane!

"Occasional drunk high school drop outs or lost backpackers. You know they don't have showers available for days, Bells." Charlie said and shivered while taking a turn to the left and waving to the guy in parking lot booth.

"Since when does a chief have a partner ? He's never mentioned anybody but his subordinate in the station.

"Forks is not that small anymore, honey. We've needed help in the station for some time now, but we weren't able to find anybody who would take the position. Not anyone with a degree anyway."

"Well it's nice you have more officers. Mark must be annoying after all these years." I was so proud of remembering the first name of his officer. Yes, he was the only person Charlie has worked with at the station but, I haven't seen the guy since I was nine years old.

"Mark's great! He got married last summer to Judie. You probably don't remember her. She used to live outside Forks. Land of her ancestors was placed off the road, by the stream in the woods. After her grandmother died, she remained as the last of her family. She sold the land and the house and afterwards finally met Mark. I was sure they went to school together. You know I always think everybody is from Forks." He winked at me.

"That's right! Mark's from Port Angeles. So they live there now?"

"Yes. Judie opened some sort of specialized bookstore there. They live in an apartment above the store."A bookstore with Charlie's acquaintances in near sight ? That sounded too good to be true. Perhaps getting out of Forks for book hunts would not be as difficult as I originally thought.

As Charlie turned into the silence, I was dazzled with the forests we were driving through. You would have to be a first class hypocrite not to be grateful for woods like those that cover the Olympic Peninsula. They were like those from fantasy novels and old movies. Dark, dense forests. Come to think of it more, those forests must be scary as hell during night. I could never understand all the backpackers that were all over the Peninsula. I liked admiring nature's wonders, but having a hot shower and comfy bed to sleep in every night was a necessity for this female seventeen-old.

As I assumed, it took us nearly one hour to reach Charlie's house, the same house I would call home for a year and a half. This small family house had been bought by Charlie Swan Senior and his wife Pauline for their only son - my dad. According to Renée, Charlie Senior and Pauline were happy to offer this house to the newlyweds for their family nest and private time. It is sad that this small house was not a "family nest" for the three of us for a long time. Renée left Forks with me in her arms when I was not yet 4 months old. The little house was left to Charlie, and Renée would often wonder why he remained living there after the painful divorce and separation from me - his baby girl, not that Charlie ever called me "baby girl", which only proves he is a smart man. Those protective, talkative fathers were always disturbing to watch at soccer girl practices. Those kinds of fathers were often a topic of gossip in school-teachers lounges. So much for the soccer moms phenomenon. Phil once tried to persuade me to give soccer a try.

I never had anything personally against team sports. The problem was that I would often get lost in observing the way others would play, relate to each other and as a result I would often get kicked by a ball, opposite team player or stray comet. In preschool, I was marked as a klutz, but later on my talent for solo action was recognized by a sprinting team leader. Running felt good, felt right after any confrontation, embarrassing experiences, hormonal meltdowns, PMS - a good run would make me go back to that place in my mind where I would be my own person. Where I would feel whole again.

After the "_Halloween incident_", I wanted to run to Tucson. Hell, I wanted to stay there and never face mom and Phil ever again. Especially considering that seeing the act made me think about things I was curious about but not willing to experience with my peers. The presence of a young man in my home, a man who was so comfortable with who he was, made me think about myself as a physical teenage female, full of opportunities and undiscovered possibilities. I could not see Phil as a parental figure, he was never presented to me as such, nor had he ever tried to enforce any rules on me. He knew that being in the 21-29 age group made him extra appealing to a teenage girl. Renée was always reckless and acted as a teenager around Phil when they were dating. Whereas, Phil remained an adult during days, but whenever he would think they were not being watched or were in any way out of sight he leveled down to her and act as a horny teenager.

Charlie was quiet, but not foolish. His cop instincts must have told him that interrogating Renée or me about recent happenings would merely pin point something uncomfortable and/or embarrassing. Things fathers would rather avoid dealing with their teen daughters. And in that department, Charlie was lucky. I've always been a good girl. And continuing that role won't be that difficult in the little town of Forks.

And Forks was, well, it was kind of lovely. Small, narrow roads, predictable turns and only basic town facilities, but people like Charlie needed this kind of town. They would not do well in Phoenix or Seattle. Besides, the less fancy and alluring the place I spend the next phase of my life, the more I will be able to focus on what's really important and at the moment that was graduating and getting into a decent college.

As I was ready to wake up from my day dreaming, Charlie started humming the melody coming from his ancient radio. Never before I have never seen my dad this happy and it finally got into my head. He was happy because I was here, sitting right next to him, in his cruiser, on our way to Forks, my hometown, where I was moving into his house.

Suddenly, the wave of guilt smashed into me. I've tumbled over thousand miles in order to stay away from my mother and her young sexy husband, whom I could not look at without thinking about how wet my panties would get, and here was my father. My dad who I barely knew, who I did not try to know well in past few years, because I was so focused on myself and what I thought was important for me. Having a solid relationship with my father was not on my list of priorities, and I could not understand why that was normal in my mind. Charlie obviously cared a lot about me. He called at least one time a week and sometimes during weekends and for a withdrawn and quiet person, he really tried to put himself out there for me, to know that I could contact him whenever I needed, for whatever happened and I never gave it a second thought.

He was practically glowing from happiness as we drove into the suburbs of Forks. Once he parked in front of the little house that was to be my home again, I felt like shit and strongly promised myself I would work on being a better person and a better daughter to Charlie. From now on, time would be on my side.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: The Lemonade

**Author**: Chloe Fluer

**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

**Beta**: FrogQueenLaurel, thank you for all the help and support =)

It was very strange. Standing here in my old room, my nursery. When I would come here during the summers in my preteens, I would always find this room dark, small and claustrophobic. But not now. Now, this room was sort of cozy and Charlie already informed me that he made sure the heat got to my room and that windows were replaced and installed with new frames to keep the cold outside and the glass to let the more sun in. There were brand new yellowish curtains with a golden snowflakes pattern. If there was any light coming from the outside, I am sure the snowflakes would sparkle.

Charlie repainted the room the day that I told him I was coming to Forks. So now it was in color of ripe plums. He didn't ask, he just did it. And he bought me new dark purple bed sheets. Whatever happened to my insecure, over-thinking father who asked three times before buying a Christmas present, I don't want to know. Living with THIS Charlie will be easier, I am sure of it.

What remained of my old nursery was the rocking chair that I loved, even when I hated everything & everybody in Forks and possibly Washington state. Charlie placed it beside the window and I could easily see myself sitting, with book in my lap, cocooned in a warm blanket while watching the rain or snow. God knows that if there were any sun light in Forks I would teleport myself outside even in coldest time of the year.

There were new shelves installed above the desk. Those were meant for my books that would arrive via FedEx soon, school folders and CDs.

On the desk was a folder with the logo of Forks High School with several forms, lists of textbooks, reading materials and my new temporary schedule. And once again I was right. There was no AP Biology, which meant that I was stuck with repeating the material I was already familiar with for this semester. Plus it was my last period every day. How depressing. I will be stuck in school for a whole extra class, listening about cells and reproduction over again. Advanced Placement classes were not the same as in my Phoenix school. Italian language and literature AP were not available, neither was Latin Literature AP that I was planning to take in my Senior year. Biology was interesting enough to take as a AP, because diversity looks good on your college application, but generally I could not see myself pursuing it later in life.

Not being able to take Italian AP was depressing. I was really good. Well my grammar was not that brilliant, but I was a good speaker because we had a native speaker in middle school. So it all depended now on how the teacher in Forks high school will be approaching the territory of foreign language. For the first time I was hoping for a geeky grammar teacher. It would push me to deal with my weaknesses. But frankly, it was most unlikely. Usually the approach was to prepare students to be more communicative using the foreign language. I would have to find a way to take that AP test somewhere in Washington.

I never understood all the fuss with Spanish. It was the most popular foreign subject in most high schools and yet rarely any non Hispanic teen spoke it well. Since all the studies showed how younger generations spent many hours watching TV and at one time kids watch soap operas. So how is it possible that so very few picked up the language? It was so practical and convenient. That's how I understood almost anything in Spanish. But I would always have an urge to respond in Italian. So there you go.

Thankfully AP European history was on the table. The subject was marked with orange pen on the paper list. I had no idea what the reason was behind it. I was just happy enough that it was on the list classes I was in.

As far as the reading list for English, well it was not any more advanced than the one I had in Phoenix, which was good and sad at the same time. I was happy that my folder of old essays was in my suitcase, with all my highly praised works of words and thoughts on high school literature.

I would have to think of something to do with all of that free time in school. I better not be tempted to bring the pink, shiny book with me. It would be embarrassing to be caught reading that piece of chick lit in school. Being a new girl in a small town, in a small high school I needed a plan to stay invisible as I had managed to perfectly in Phoenix. In Forks I would probable need to contact Harry Potter, for him to lend me his father's invisibility cloak or maybe I would need to build a new look for plain Bella.

Charlie ordered pizza for dinner. He assured me that this was not the regular thing, that he was just too distracted to buy groceries. He did not however, share his regular dinner plans with me. The kitchen looked way too clean for a single male with a full time job. There were several types of cereals, all in unopened boxes. Pizza was exactly the way I liked it well done, with pepperoni and extra mozzarella. By the time we finished there was red sauce and mozzarella everywhere. After we ate, Charlie was humming as we were washing the plates together. He was glowing like he swallowed a Christmas tree.

*** *** ***

Apparently, my room was full of surprises and Charlie went even further with "welcoming me back home" as he mentioned in the kitchen. The surprises were all over my new/old room, I was just so blinded with the effect of fresh color that I had not noticed all the little things that were present.

Like in the tray of the bedside table, there was a lovely package with a yellow band. I decided to leave it unopened, at least until I located all the other objects. There was a wooden brush with the same yellow band, and in one of the trays of the repainted desk was a pile of smooth papers for writing. Blank - no lines. I could feel the radiant force tinkling somewhere in my belly. The feeling was familiar, I have already felt this way before, I was sure of it but I could not recall from where or when. It must have been a long long time ago. I was suddenly overblown with the image of myself at the age of eight, with braids, navy blue striped dress and then I was once again nine years old and writing into journals secret potions to summon the sun in rainy Forks. Why did I ever leave my dad to rot here ?

My mind was set on making this work. I did have enough time this weekend to unpack all the things I sent from Phoenix.

The bookshelves were also repainted like the desk and Charlie made sure I had enough shelves, as Renee told him I had 5 packages sent with my stuff.

Thankfully, I was not forgetful about the fact that in Forks I would not have my own bathroom and unlimited amount of hot water for the long showers that I enjoyed so much during those horny times of month. Renee never ever asked questions about them, but Charlie would probably object due to that much hot water wasted for just one shower.

I would have to work that thing out. Back in Phoenix, I started feeling the need for those activities some time after my 16th birthday. Before that, my sexual desire was hidden or very carefully covered within the innocent girl that I was always perceived as. I mean it is not as if I spent my free time locked in a bedroom masturbating and daydreaming about some celebrity hottie from new doctor's prime time drama series. Though, I had an inside-my-head affair with Spike from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and I would not ever deny it, if directly confronted with it. The only thing that could give me away, was a picture of Spike in my calculus notebook and it was there so I wouldn't fall asleep during the dullest class ever.

And from what I could see, from the sound of the name, Mr Varner, I would probably need that Spike picture again

The list of classes and teachers was printed on a blue paper, together with special forms that each teacher would have to sing, so that transition would be official for Forks High School administration.

The information I was given about my new academic environment was poor. The motto of the school, "Home of the Spartans", was somewhat disturbing. I loved reading about ancient Greece, the myths and the lives on the mountainous peninsulas thousands of years ago. I was mostly amazed by the origin of philosophy, the mother of all sciences and knowledge. The myths remained living in various forms within astrology. I was introduced to the myths by our elderly Czech neighbor, Mrs Koprivova. She had quite a collection of books that looked just amazing to open, touch, smell and … read. But I never got to read them. The books were all in Czech and Mrs Koprivova only taught me hello (ahoj) and I love you (miluji tě).

She did however, read from this amazing book that apparently was not translated in English. The author had this weird name - Zamorovsky. That guy made an effort to make a whole alphabetized encyclopedia of heroes of Greek myths. All of them in one place, all their stories and adventures, children and affairs. Entertainment weekly in Ancient Greek way. The Athenians were known as pig headed and snide, whereas the Spartans were ruthless, raw and principled. I hope these "qualities" were merely used to frighten the opposite side in sports and not newcomers.

Forks High School abolished mandatory school uniforms back in 1999 after the famous Britney Spears video, where high school uniforms drawn from pornographic movies to a typical virginal teenage girl in the late 90's. According to Forks High School student's blog, there were several incidents after the debut of the video in question. Some involving redesigned skirts, shirts and socks.

I could not bare wearing a uniform every day to school for eight hours. I would always dress according to my mood and I would not be in a mood to imitate a horny male's fantasy every single day. As a Halloween costume on a the other hand . . . actually, no. I don't think I will ever be in a mood for a costume on a Halloween night. In fact, I think I will skip that day and night for as long as my hormones are not stable, or at least until I get a good enough distraction to forget all about the incident that made me unable to look in the eyes of my own mother, or her husband.

The clothes I brought with me were able to fit in my old wardrobe even though it only had two shelves and three hangers. I soon realized that all my Phoenix t-shirts could be used as spare sleeping shirts. And that was fine. My new clothes were ready to be worn in this rainy wretched town. Spaghetti tops will have to wait for sunshine of summer days.

I did not have problems picking an outfit for my first day in Forks High school. Dark purple turtleneck and black jeans plus I would need to wear my new and pricey black coat. Phil persuaded me to try it on and ending up buying it for me. Which was so nice of him, considering all the recent events.

As I was getting myself settled in my old/new room, my iBook made a pinging noise calling my attention to an open wireless port to hook onto. Now this was interesting. According to Charlie, Forks had problems with optical cables, so the arrival of fast DSL lines took some time. Charlie still did not have DSL line installed. Apparently, his chief of police status did not bring any benefits in the department of social life. Not that Charlie cared about fast internet and its benefits. But he realized how important this was to me so he promised to make it happen for me in my home in Forks.

The iBook made another ping as I was rearranging socks and sweats, so I took it seriously. The wireless port was called "MASEN" and there was no password required. Now this was just too good to be true. Back at home, I would never click on something like this because it was a most likely a trojan or spyware device, even a pedophile, but to have this kind of wireless port in Forks you had to have an institution or I don't know, loads of money?

So in desperate need of my online fix, I clicked on it and that's all it took. I was online and boy was I flying! I've never seen web sites opening so fast. In fact, I could not see the process of opening. It was just click and open. Even music videos on YouTube opened in flash. The operating system did not detect any weird, suspicious activities. It reminded me about that one time back in Phoenix, when our neighbors, the Grobans, installed their DSL wireless (the first in our block) and my computer made the same connection. At the time, I did not know much about wireless internet, but during unsupervised online time in the privacy of my own room it was just too good to pass up. Even at the expense of elderly rich couple. I was not that bad. Never downloaded anything, just read newspapers from all over the world, e-mail and some blogs. But my joy lasted only for three weeks or so. The Grobans locked their wireless connection and I was back in the dining room at the kitchen table for my online time.

The Grobans never mentioned the invasion of their wireless. This "MASEN" port was something else. It worked so well, so fast. It was probably a server. One would think that a server would have a protection of some sort, mandatory log in, validation of IP address I as not that good at this stuff. What I did know I learned from the experience and those yellow computer dummy manuals. The chill of panic went through my spine to my toes. I turned my wireless off and turned the iBook off, with amazing timing because at that moment I heard footsteps on the stairs heading up.

It was Charlie. He took his time with the stairs, I guess enough to warn me he was heading to my room and not wanting to interrupt anything that might make me or him uncomfortable. That was so Charlie. Thoughtful, easily embarrassed with no experience whatsoever, but loving and careful. The knock was loud and clear.

"Bells?"

"Hey dad! I was just unpacking the rest of the stuff and came up to all the presents everywhere. You really shouldn't have. You already spent so much redecorating the room."

"Honey, I know I should have talked to you about it first, it's just that I was so excited when you called and told me, I just took of for Port Angeles and went shopping."

"Chief Swan went shopping on a working weekend?"

"I don't work every weekend anymore Bells. I've mentioned we have fresh blood in the station, so now we take turns on weekends and I take shifts in La Push every other weekend."

"Shifts ? You mean you and head of the tribe go fishing !"

"Hahahah ! Billy is rarely up for fishing tours anymore. There is this movie being shot and the Quileutes are supervising the filming, so Billy is charge of that and I lend a hand with the security and organization. It's some nice extra income."

"Well that's great dad! Extra money, plus you get to spend time in La Push!" I remembered spending time there during my summers, while Charlie was fishing. There were some of the most amazing colors there. If I had any artistic abilities I would have probably stayed there for good. But I was always just an observer and clumsy one at that. Our La Push visits usually ended up with scratches on my palms, knees and puffy eyes from all the crying.

"Honey, I wanted to talk more about your school plans here in Forks. All the folks are looking forward having you here and Mrs Bailey, the principal, is a really nice woman and would be happy to see you on Monday and help you out with ..."

"Ch- dad! I don't want to see the principal! The first day in high school here will be a drama enough without all that fuss! Plus it's not like I need counseling or help with choosing my classes. I have a plan that I am sticking to as far as my classes go. Seriously dad, there is no need for that kind of intervention." At this moment I was panicking.

"I keep forgetting how serious and independent you've grown to be Bells. Still, don't be shy if you need any help with settling in. I am just...so happy you are here." My god. Charlie truly was happy and his brown eyes were sparkling.

"Well honey, I am gonna hit the bunk. Keep an open mind about this small town. I am sure that there is stuff to improve and write it down if there is anything I can do better to make you feel more like home."

"I don't know, the rocket to shoot the clouds and fog away?"

"Hahahahah ! I will see what I can do about that! Don't stay up to late. Big day is up tomorrow. Sleep well"

"Good night dad. We'll talk more about some stuff I have in mind."

So he smiled, winked at me and left my room.

See Bella ? This will be okay. I just had a smooth conversation with my father and I was so sure I needed to work to get to that level.

My very first night in my purple room was strangely cozy and homey. As I was nuzzling into pillows, sheets and blankets, I turned my cell phone on. It was off all day long, because I was too lazy to turn it back on in the airport. I had five messages from Renee. I know that giving her a call before leaving to Wonderland was mandatory. She answered after a first ring, she was expecting my call and was ready with list of questions about...everything. Apparently, she knew all about Charlie's renovations in my room and in the kitchen cupboards. There wasn't much to share, Phil was getting ready to leave with his high school team to Reno for a few days. Renee could not hide the excitement of joining him on those trips. And honestly, I could not blame her.

Before saying good night, Renee once again told me that it was not necessary for me to leave and that whenever I wanted, I could come back home.

The only problem was, that in my mind I had already started considering this little house home and I felt the ease of content about that fact.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: The Lemonade

**Author**: Chloe Fluer

**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

**Beta**: **FrogQueenLaurel **you kick ass and I love you for all the help

The chills were rising from my inner thighs to my core and to my heart and lungs. As my breathing was getting deeper and sharper, I could feel the steam underneath the blankets. I could feel my fingertips slowly tracing the line of my pajama bottoms and white panties, as my eyes opened a little in gaze; to be sure I was safe and private. My knees rose, so I became aware of rays of light coming from the window and more aggressive florescent green light coming from the bedside table.

"Oh shit!"

NO NO NO NOOOOO ! ! !

I couldn't even start my very first day here with a smile after reaching a peek in Wonderland! Because, it was already 6 am, which was the time to get up and head for new victories. So I pushed off the blankets, got up to my feet and kicked the pillows that fell off the bed to another part of the room. This was what defined getting up on the wrong side of the bed.

As I finished up in the bathroom and put on the clothes I picked up the night before, I sat down and took out my cosmetic bag. I had to protect my skin here in foggy Forks and perhaps put on a little make up? Extra color might brighten up the face. The only problem was that I'm not skilled with makeup, especially with time limitations.

I exhaled and my eyes feel on the floor, where - once again - sat that damned pink book. It was just there. On the floor, waiting to be opened and taken on its word. So I gave it a go.

**Page 47, Chapter: Greeting Your Public**: How to Wear the Right Make-up with an extra paragraph dedicated to Blushing. This is sort of ridiculous, if you think of it. I could write a thesis entitled "Blushing for Dummies and Pros".  
Having been blessed by a pale, translucent complexion, I only needed a few drops for red spots and capillaries, occasional bluish bags. So the instructions were as following:

_"After you achieved a flawless base, start working on the eyes. Begin with the eyeliner, then mascara, eye shadow and more mascara."_

Also, another sentence was more helpful:

_"If the makeup looks invisible and blends in smoothly, you have the correct shade for you."_

Well that was a good read and completely unhelpful. I would not be wearing layers of mascara, eyeliner or foundation to school. So I covered up the redness around my mouth and nose, put on that lip moisturizer and called it a day as far as chick guide went on first impressions.

Charlie was waiting for me downstairs, sitting by the kitchen table having yogurt! And there I had yet another easy going chat with Char- my dad about my new bed, the sheets and future morning arrangements. Charlie was happy to give me a lift to school, but it would not be possible every morning, due to unpredictability of his job. He mentioned something about buying an extra car for us, so that I could use it, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. Charlie obviously spent loads of cash on all the new stuff in my room. There is no way will I let him buy me a car right now. He kept bringing up college tuition and his pension fund. He would not accept that there were other ways of getting money for college. I had several foundations in mind; some had very specific conditions that I would have difficulty achieving. But there was still time to get atop off that. So far, my grades were pretty high, thanks to my ability to process, memorize and reproduce pretty much anything.

The saddest part of this method was that I seemed to be able to get the highest grades in subjects I was the least interested in. Subjects like Biology, Calculus or Government. I would be a liar to say that I did not find Biology fascinating, especially the creation of life, how the body fights viruses and deals with all kinds of good and bad bacteria. Thinking about it and reading about it was one thing, but having it present everyday for the rest of my life as a calling wouldn't work for me.

I was always keen on writing, but I was never happy with it. I seemed to be one of those people who were aware of great music, writing, great art - but was never able to contribute in any of those departments. This probably meant that I was to be an observer in this life. And all things considered, that wasn't a bad role. Most people are just observers in the events of the circle of life. The problem was that most people were not aware of their observant passive role, but that is kind of good. The truth is for most, very depressing and hard to face.

Driving to school was rather quick, so even if I end up without the ride, it wouldn't take me long to get home on foot. Actually, I was looking forward to the sight seeing on my walk back home. But it could be dangerous in a way, the woods looked so tempting. I could very likely get lost in them and make the little town very upset, not to mention the Chief of Police, who was now looking right at me!

"There you go, Bells!" said Charlie with a warm smile.

"It looks ...small?" And it really was small, the school, the campus, even the school bus.

"Well, it is getting bigger with you in it." Charlie winked at me and gave one of those "I-am-sure-you'll-do-great" looks. And at that precise moment, I believed my father.

The woman in the administration office was horrible. She kept gawking at me, over-explaining every little detail about my schedule, teachers, types of classes and extra curriculum activities the school offered. I was NOT interested in talking about this kind stuff with middle aged woman with purple lipstick and matching nail-polish. So I kept nodding my head, in hopes that she would stop babbling soon and let me bail out of the green office to the classroom.

"So dear, I am sure your peer counselor will find you during your first classes and be of more use to you. Have a good day Isabella!"

Peer counselor? Where was I for God's sake? Will this town of Forks turn out to be a sanctuary for lost souls ? I did not need to be saved by a peer counselor. What was this place they called Forks High School?

It wasn't hard finding building 4. Kids in school were not really interested in "the new girl". Which was good. I was dreading the attention in this small school where, by the end of the week, I will be expected to know everybody's first name. That will not happen. As Government, English, and Italian passed, I realized I was surrounded with same group of people. They were getting more and more relaxed around me. So I was introduced to hyperactive girl with curly, dark brown hair. She wore a phony-smile with too white teeth, light green sweater and huge red ribbon intertwined with her giant curls. She kept babbling to me about a science project the school was involved in on the state level, as well as the volleyball team that I should try for since I was tall enough, according to her. She also kept ordering around this tall, green eyed blonde who looked bored by the best or perhaps just numb? She measured me up once and most likely decided I was not worth the effort or I'm any competition for her.

"So Isabella, who did you get assigned to?" the Giant Curl asked, while sharing looks with the green eyed, blonde and this other girl who was smiling cautiously at me with her honey brown eyes that were shining behind a red pair of glasses.

"What do you mean?" I asked and suddenly remembered that The Giant Curl's name was Jessica.

"I am sure that you were told that you will be assigned a peer counselor. It is a school policy. You will probably get a junior, since all seniors are taken. In every way." The Giant Curl Jessica commented and winked at Green Eyes who was still looking too bored to be having this conversation. And I felt the same way.

As I was about to protest and demand more information on the matter, the quiet, honey brown eyes girl with glasses nudged me and said:

"That's Edward Cullen with a student's file. You should probably get to know him, it takes time to get to get his attention. And by the way I'm Angela." She smiled and nodded her head to this boy walking down the hall in our way with his head down, obviously studying papers in blue carton file.

So I rushed to confront him. I must have misjudged his speed and as his head was bowed down in a file, he pushed me to the wall and at the same time, tripping over my shoes pulling me down with him.

So there I was, spread across the floor of the high school hall on a rainy day, with the right part of my body pressed against this tall clumsy boy.

The laughter was carried all the way through the hallway while a pair of cold hands pulled me up to sitting position.

"I am so sorry. I was reading and…and I did not see you. I'm sorry." His voice was slightly too high, but soft as a new cotton camisole against the bare skin.

"Oh god! The papers! I need to find Isabella Marie Swan!"

"Well hello! I am Isabella. Bella that is! Why do you have my file?" I do not know how I managed to say all of those words while his eyes kept studying me from toes to top, specially scanning my hands and fingers that where interlinked with his.

Carefully, he stood up and pulled me with him, releasing me from his grasp. He took a big breath and smiled down at me.

"The papers!" So we both got back down there and pull them back into the file. And I could see everything that he has been studying so diligently.

"I should have been more careful with your information, Isabella. You were assigned to me, or better said I was assigned to you."

He was talking as if dragons were hunting the words out of his mouth. It was quite obvious that before I stepped into his way, he had been prepping himself for our first session. Thinking about things to say to the new girl.

As he clutched the papers in the file, he smiled down at me. He was quite tall, tall compared to me. This was not that impressive considering my 5'4" frame.

"Look, I don't know how things work here..."

"Well that's why you were assigned to me! No. I got it wrong again. I was assigned to you, to help you with everything you have to go through with switching schools in the middle of the year and everything... Well, you know. You are going through it and I promise to be of more use than it seems right now. I am just talking and keeping you away from your lunch. The cafeteria is in the west wing." For some reason, he rolled his eyes at that last remark and made the weirdest move with his arms, like he was pointing me in the direction in a cartoonish way.

"Errrr...I am not hungry." Not for cafeteria food. Information, however…

'"Oh. Well, there are not many other things to do during lunch break, but I guess I can give you a tour and we can talk about...your file here"

It took me more time to figure out why I felt so awkward listening to this tall boy talking to me. He was using too many words so fast and yet, he was carefully and causally avoiding eye to eye contact. He would occasionally glance from blue file to my forehead or to my chin and nose. I felt so... studied and scanned. Like he was making mental notes about information gathered, while his hands and fingers on "my file" looked very determined. I needed to get that file out of his hands. What the hell were they thinking giving my personal information to a student? Peer counseling? Like a kid my age could help me with anything serious? I maybe needed a golden retriever, but I was not the kind of person to agree on an escort, even a cute puppy as the tall Edward really was.

"Emmmm…Edward?" I needed to end this gently. "What is peer counseling?"

"You did not have peer counseling in you high school in Phoenix? That is interesting. No wonder all the metal detectors and violence ..."

"What are you talking about?"

"That school of yours is pretty scary. Last year they made it up to the list with the most police interventions in the state. Plus they did not have a single physiologist since the last two left the educational system. That is really sad for such a big school in one of the biggest cities in the country." Huh?

"I actually attended that school; don't you think I have a better idea of how things actually ran there? You think we were physiologically damaged by the metal detectors? Is this part of your job to do research and insult the school I came from so I would adjust better here?" As I was digesting and getting all of that information out of my system, he was slowly reaching out his hand to touch my head and it felt as if his eyes were caressing my hair, getting too close into my private space.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"It's just that, you do know you have paper clips in your hair?"

"WHAT????" Where? Are you messing with me?

"Shhhhh ! ! ! ! Keep it down Isabella. I am a freak enough; you don't have to become one on you very first day."

As I was pulling out five (!) paper clips out of my curls, he went into studying me again with those big green eyes that were warm and liquid, full of honest concern, like he was attached to me and wouldn't let go.

"Look, I do not understand this thing you are doing, this project peer counseling and being all helpful. I want to make it on my own. Independent power girl. Understand?"

"Well, you seem very bright and from the information list I have here, you are quite successful with everything you get your hands on and still you are declining a helpful person. There is a saying 'work smart not hard'. I actually believe in work hard part more, but being smart is necessary to make it sane. I am not going to push you, or anything. But, you should let me in and allow me to introduce you to how things run here. I promise not to be a cling-on ."

And as he was producing more and more words, my thoughts were analyzing everything about him. I wanted that warm smile on my face. I wanted to be able to talk that openly to this stranger, even with all the parasites of errrrrs and hmmms that were escaping his mouth as he tried to remain silent in between. I wanted to know about being a part of whatever made this neat and tidy boy so determined to be approachable to a person he has never met before. So I let him pull at my sleeve toward the locker room and on the bench overlooking the backyard of the school.

We sat down and he opened that damned blue file that caused all the initial embarrassment. He kept warning me that our professional relationship would be strictly confidential, he would not share any information from the file he was given by the school or about any of the things I would share with him, but I would be obliged to do the same for him. What he would tell me as a peer counselor would be for my ears and use alone. This meant that I would not discuss our meetings with other people he was counseling.

He also offered to help me with college applications and professional orientation if I were unsure of my options.

"So all in all I am" and he pointed to himself "an assigned helper. But I do hope we actually get along and can be more."

Oh my, oh my. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself into, and the use of words and phrases, I would be getting more and more drawn to the idea of exploring the locker room with this Edward counselor. He was smiling at me at one moment and studying the blue file the next. As he was holding the pile of blue applications, those that Charlie had for me so that each teacher would sign, he made the cutest smirk and his features got all mixed up in a Plato-all-philosophical-deep-thoughts kind of way. His lips twitched and his eyebrows furrowed to his hair roots.

"They actually gave you these??? You shouldn't worry about those things. Teachers get into a group meeting each Monday and deal with this stuff. The school administrator should have been more…"

"Edward, I am pretty good at taking care of myself. A few forms are not a big deal. You are indeed being very helpful and I am sure that very soon I will be stalking you on the hallways for input." For sure I will be chasing you in my dreams and be thinking about your long fingers while I am in Wonderland.

As those thoughts were crossing my mind and turning into images, an amazing amount of warmth came up to my neck and cheeks. As if I was calling for him to read the language of my body and make a move to acknowledge the attraction that was forming deep inside me.

But thankfully, Edward was busy studying my file yet again. The warm smile was still on his face and he was messing with his weird hair that was pointing in all directions and the color of copper. He was humming and nibbling his lips, his eyes were dancing across those papers I had no idea what were about!

"I don't think it is okay for you to be, you know, in possession of all of those things. This information about me. It's not really fair. Don't you think? You having all this advantage over…you know…"

He was still reading my file, but eventually brought his head up and tossed it on the bench with a huge grin all over his face.

"Does that mean I should break into the principal's office, steal my own file and give it to you for inspection?" The grin rose up from his lips, to his cheeks and his green eyes that were having so much fun playing this game.

"Would that make us equals in your eyes Isabella Marie Swan?" The tone of his voice was raising and his eyebrows were twitching.

"I don't know if that would be such a good idea. Cha... my dad would not like me soliciting in illegal activity." I had to tease him. His facial expression was so just begging me to do so. His eyebrows looked like two porcupines and little dimples on his cheeks were just adorable.

"Huh. I managed to misplace that fact. You do know that the confidentiality is in power even when it comes to the Chief of Police? I don't care that he is your dad. Even if he drives me around tied up in that crazy cruiser of his for two days, I am not telling him anything you confide in me. Understood?"

"Charlie wouldn't do that!" Right?

"Are we talking about the same Charles Swan, Police Chief of good the people of Forks? From what I've heard, he and that blonde are pretty strict to all the underage drinkers and the rest of the trouble makers around here. Plus, I wouldn't like to meet that officer Mark either. His fists look like they have been trained for killing bunnies and I like my fingers, thank you very much!"

Instinctively, my eyes switched from his eyes to his hands that were on the file. And for once, I had to agree. It would be a sin to damage those fingers, those elegant marble-like hands. I wanted to ask him what was the most precious thing he ever touched, but I was afraid to know. Plus, I would probably die of embarrassment, just from the amount of blood that would be in the area of my cheeks and nose.

"Again, you are avoiding the subject!" I needed to know the ground rules. I would not be an open book in every possible way to this boy that I started feeling something for. It wouldn't be fair and it wasn't a good foundation of a good relationship. Foundation of a good friendship. Because, friendship is a relationship right?

"I can not share my file with you, even if I wanted to. I don't have the power to just hand it to you. Breaking and entering would be the only way, but I think we both agree that it is something that would cost us way too much." And as his eyes were gently glowing and watching me, the hint of a smirk rose as he added:

"Whatever they kicked you out of Phoenix for, will eventually pull its ugly head out and you will be in enough trouble that I will need to stage an intervention. I can already see it. The troublemaker from the big town, daughter of the Chief of Police sets out to rule the small town of Forks" His arms were gesticulating in the most unusual way. Like he was admiring the invisible placard in the air above out heads.

Obviously, the lack of reaction on my side confused him. As if I would ever want him to know why I left Phoenix. I think I would rather show up at Forks High School wearing Britney Spears' latest video outfit on Monday morning. Or even the red condom-like costume she wore in "Ooops I Did It Again".

"I apologize. I sometimes I lack control on the things that come out of my mouth. I was trying to be funny and failed miserably. I am also not in touch with real time. So you most definitely will not have lunch in our famous cafeteria..."

"You did nothing wrong Edward. I was just overloaded inside, you know. Thank you for making this day better. I am not sure what to ask you right now, but now I know to whom my questions will go, so I'll start writing them down. By tomorrow you might ask to get me reassigned. I know I have some issues with my classes."

"We need to set an appointment with school's administration. I know you had AP classes but we don't have all of those here so that needs to be taken care of. Now we are running low on time. The next class is about to start and I don't have enough power to cut classes and not get into trouble." With that, he got up and put his bag on his shoulders. He waited from me to collect my thoughts and my belongings, and together we walked down the hallway. I wanted to look at him; I wanted him to talk to me like he did in the locker room. To gesture with his hands and for him to study my features. I wanted to ask more. But from the moment we stepped into the crowd, Edward closed his mouth and kept his eyes down. I couldn't help but notice, the smile was still there. And although I only met Edward today, I was sure that the smile was not on his face often. It suited him so well though.

From what I could tell, kids here were pretty much all in the same social class. Sure, here and there you could notice a fancier coat or some cool trendy sneakers, but it looked like teens were all getting their clothes and accessories from the same department store or the same mall. Edward, on the other hand, was dressed as if his older sister picked his clothes. All that in a good way. He was wearing a navy sweater and white shirt under it, while its sleeves were peeking out around his wrists. Why boys did not dress more like that was mystery to me. He was as Southerners would say: "Cute as a button" and was not aware of it. So I started wondering whether it was only me he was helpful to, or was he being assigned to others as well. Did he have experience with this sort of thing?

"Edward? Am I allowed to know who else you are, you know...counseling, or does that fall under the privileged information?"

"Well, on the practical side, I could just tell you, but it wouldn't be fair. You will probably find out on your own pretty soon anyway. It isn't a big deal, but it should stay private. As long as possible, that is." He said pointing me in the direction of a classroom with his left arm. Thankfully I managed to get his gesture and I took it as my _desired _destination.

I was trying to recall my schedule, but all I could think was his hands, his long fingers and the way he was carefully studying all the information he was given while reading my file, then scanning my face. Was there any way for me to access the permanent part of my memory where my schedule was saved?

Mr. Verner was very tall man in his late 30s. His eyebrows were bushy, dark and his hair was chopped and black. As students were settling in their seats, Mr. Verner started handing out papers. Pop quiz. But of course. It would be my very first day in a new high school and I had to have a pop quiz from the subject I was least comfortable with overall. With loads of effort and time I was able to make a strong B in Phoenix. My teacher there told me that with a little more effort I could make it A. But Calculus was not on my mind from the first day of Christmas holidays and I tended to get rusty with the subjects I was not thrilled with taking.

Thankfully, there was an empty table in the back, so there was no need for the pointless introductions. The pop quiz enabled my new classmates to give me more unwanted attention. The Giant Curl made the most unimaginable sound after Mr. Verner handed her the questions. Apparently, she was excited to be the very first one to see the questions.

As the papers were about to reach me, I was trying to digest everything that has happened in past few hours. I was attending the first day in new high school, the attention I was given by my peers was all in all poor and that pleased me very much. The attention the copper haired boy gave me was certainly not in any way expected. The paper that was handed to me with was full of familiar symbols and my right hand took my pen and started to write the things my brain was sure of and left one question blank. The automatic pilot for Calculus was not in perfect shape while right side of the brain was occupied fantasizing about the creature that has so easily and yet so nervously stepped into my new daily routine. Everything that I came up with to happen at Forks High School on my first day did not happen. I was not eyed up more than once by every person. The homecoming queen just glanced at me and switched her eyes back on the tall muscular guy down in hallway.

I was not sure what to do with all the thoughts that came across my mind. While results for the pop quiz came to me with some effort of the reasonable geeky Bella, the other girl inside me wanted to be allowed to be vocal and demanded to think visually about Edward. Edward and his long fingers that were so gentle and possessive of the information file full of all the administration's fluff about me. The vocal and visual Bella was using my left hand and started rubbing my left knee. All of me felt the warmth and all of me knew that what was written was written and there was no Calculus Spike to bring me back from this pop quiz fantasy.

**A/N** – some of you know this; I left for a little vacation. As a result we got the delay plus issues. I will be writing more these days. I am working on figuring out Edward and others that will pop their heads in The Lemonade soon.

You can follow me on twitter where I give teasers and daily rants. I am chloe_fluer .


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: The Lemonade

**Author**: Chloe Fluer

**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance

**Rating**: M

**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

A box of Kleenex was next to my feet. Yes, I managed to get cold on the very first day of school. If it were any other place on Earth, I would be pissed at myself, but it was rainy Forks and it would take me time to get used to all the climate changes.

I was sitting in my bedroom, in the rocking chair near the window and reviewing the day that was passing. From Calculus forward, my day passed in a gaze. I did not see him anymore, even though I was positive he would find away to teleport next to me any moment now.

I could not explain the fascination to myself. Edward was cute, pretty boy my age. The funny, but not the funniest part, was that he was not aware of his charming nature. His gestures, tics and the way his body moved while he talked and expressed himself it was all very alluring. From what I saw this day in Forks High School being peculiar was not appreciated among my peers. Any sign of stepping outside the box of the assigned norms and you were labeled with a post-it "freak" on your forehead.

So it was easy to get on same wavelength with Angela. She was polite and aware, I was sure of it. When she gave me lift after school, she did not make a big deal out of it. She was driving her mom's car because she was driving to Port Angeles to pick up her little brothers from some play date. Her father was a reverend and was on good terms with Charlie, so Angela was aware of my arrival to Forks for some time now.

She asked me a few questions on how I was feeling in new surroundings and living with my dad, but she was in no way invasive or pushy. Talking to her was easy and comfortable. For someone so calm and serene, she was driving quite fast. We were in front of Charlie's house within minutes. She gave me her e-mail address so we could interact during day. Apparently, her father did not like people calling the house in any way. He spent most of the afternoon meditating and writing his book. Angela assured me he was friendly, but very devoted to people and preaching The Word. She promised to e-mail me her notes on the classes we attended together from the previous semester, as well as the comments on various teachers.

While I was getting out of Angela's car she said something in louder tone.

"You know, Edward is quite shy, but he is very sincere and wants to help. Don't ever mock him Bella. He would not take that well and frankly, nor would I."

With that, she took off.

~oxo~

I was wearing my warmest socks as I naturally forgot to pack my more convenient slippers. While rocking slowly by the window and sipping tea, my thoughts were with Edward and everything about him. I pushed the thought of txt message I got from Brian during my last class. He was concerned because I did not contact him. I did not want to hurt Brian, he was a good guy, but what was the point in keeping in touch with sweet messages and long e-mails? He wanted more even with thousand miles keeping us apart. I did not answer his txt, but I decided to write to him soon. Once I figure out how this other boy has stepped into my life so suddenly. I was a little sad that I did not get to see him after Calculus or by the end of the school day. But he was nowhere to be found. And God knows I tried and looked. The Giant Curl and her guards were entertained by new issue of Cosmopolitan, the blond guy and his gang were all packed into a huge van.

I had to ask myself how Angela managed to slip out of the claws of all the obvious cliques. I thought it was impossible in small communities, just to mingle out and without any consequences, or obvious push outs. She was sitting with The Giant Curl and her entourage during lunch. She obviously had her own ride home and was not glued to the good will of her more vocal and popular colleagues. Independent power girl was my type and I was sure I would want to know more about this Angela Weber.

There was lunch cooked on the stove- pork chops, mashed potatoes and salad. Charlie must have taught himself to cook in all those years. I cannot remember him cooking while I spent my summers with him. I was always good with repressing all the bad stuff. Renée was a horrible cook. She liked to experiment with food and since Phoenix was so exotic and there was all kinds of vegetables to buy and try. Mexican food was her favorite and she was actually pretty good with spicy things. If extra peppers were kept away that is, because Renée knew no limits with them. As far as the regular stuff, she was useless. So sticking to the simplest dishes was the only sane option. At 13, I started cooking and I learn it as all the other things. Books. There were so many cookbooks that I had difficulty choosing where to start. Eventually I did start with one of the simplest and it worked. I managed to prepare stakes and potato salad, fish sticks with broccoli and noodles with various home cooked sauces. Eventually I started baking things, from bread to cakes and cookies, but that was just a phase. I still baked on occasions, but it was way too much work to do to make it part of my regular household duties. Plus it was more fun if it was tied with some events.

Renée took over cleaning. That was our agreement. I cooked and she cleaned. We would do groceries together, because she was way too forgetful. If she would remember to take the list, she would without the doubt, lose it on her way.

From the way Charlie's kitchen and fridge were stocked, we would not need to shop for groceries for a week or so. There was anything I could come up with, yet I was sure that the visit to local store was mandatory. When I was sure that there was only one bottle of milk, I would find the pack of milk in the small storage where there were supplies of almost all perpetual food and accessories. So Charlie turned into a well prepared scout boy while I was gone all those years. There was a certain meticulous feeling to the order in the house, like the way the cushions were placed on the sofa and the armchair, or the way all the frames of the photos and pictures were dust free and well coordinate.

My room was exactly the way I left it in the morning. After I dumped the school bag in the corner, I noticed the boxes on my desk. They were from my room in Phoenix and they stored the answer to the hours I would need to spend doing the Biology project for the class I already taken plus several great essays that I could reuse in Forks High School. This was not cheating. I already did this work and I should not be pushed into doing it again. There were better things to do academically.

Homework was light, so I decided to have proper lunch first. It was worth it. I was a solid cook, but there were certain things books and TV shows could not teach you about the art of preparing food and that was the way meat, sauce, biscuits need to smell while it is being made and when it is finished. This meal was really good. I would cook this well when I was lucky and I always secretly hoped that it would come to me with experience and time. I washed my plate and the kitchen cabinet and in a second I burped like never in my life. It was loud and it smelled like… well like pork. Now, I was well raised and this kind of thing would not happen to me in public or in the privacy of my own home, but something in this food was just too strong for my stomach and I could not even control this disgusting burp. I was stunned and surprised that I bit my own tongue so hard that it started bleeding!

"Holy shit!" That too escaped me without any kind of control. I grabbed the paper towel to prevent blood dropping to my shirt and rushed to the bathroom to wash the pain away. The smell of blood made me nauseated, but the taste of it made me feel like a hungry nasty vampire. It was so weird that I could faint to the smell of rust and salt, but the actual taste of blood gave me comfort and eased the pain and shock of injury, however minor and superficial. The feeling that took over my body was comforting and I could not help myself to remember the last time I bit my tongue this strong.

It was one particular morning in October when I woke up with what I would call a severe pain in my inner female organs. In less than a few seconds I saw blood of my period all over my bed sheets. My period was early, in full force and painful. I managed to get old towel that was hanging over the chair and I rushed to the bathroom. As I reached the hallway, barely walking I could see the reflection of the bathroom door in the mirror on the corner. And in one second there stood the most gorgeous man, in all the naked glory with the steam coming behind him. He looked as if he was carved out of the marvel and yet he was so real and … alive. He was very much alive and obviously hard as rock. God knows I would never ever say these words out loud, but his male organ was so … so … rocklike and delectable! Before, I was impressed with Phil's hard muscular chest, but now all I could see was his Rambo-cock. Thank all the saints that ever existed that I was holding doorframe tightly, because otherwise I would have crashed to the floor because my poor legs were turning into jelly and I was panting like an old dog after running a marathon. The scene of the eternal beauty lasted probably only a second or two, but in my mind it was in slow motion, almost like a trailer to an erotic thriller. But reality knocked on the door when my own mother covered the sight to The Rambo-cock, embraced Phil's wet and rock hard body and like that he dragged her in the direction of her bedroom.

I fail to remember how long it took me to pull myself physically and emotionally together after that. Eventually the mixture of erotic arousal and sticky feeling of my own period brought me back to real life.

I was looking at my reflection in the mirror of Charlie's bathroom. The concealer from the morning vanished and all the redness around my mouth was visible as were darkish circles around my eyes. I looked as if I was anemic. I never looked this bad in sunny Phoenix. The mush and fog of this place made my skin needier for good cosmetics. So that as at least one more thing to be added to my "buy soon" list. It was obvious I would need to make the trip to Port Angeles very soon.

The bleeding stopped and I was ready to deal with homework. It brought my mind the matters I would need to deal in days to follow. My classes were messed up. I could not take all the APs I was taking in Phoenix, as Edward explained. I would need to sit down with school administration and figure this one out.

Maybe taking the test in local community college wouldn't be such a bad option. It would be a waste to drop Latin Literature, but giving a chance to a new elective should be fun. I guess. Working on the school's yearbook was not my cup of tea, but journalism might be a good way to go. After all, my secret wish was to minor in Communications alongside with minor in Italian. My first wish was English, but it was just too common and in the corporate world, I needed to find a way to make myself stand out among so many other great young people who were keen to be more open, communicative, yet remain themselves in the solitude of private life. I wanted to travel to Europe, Italy and Spain. See where the modern civilization was born thousands of years ago in delta of Nile. Well, I was not really eager to visit Egypt, but Greece and Italy would make me very happy. I did not want to be one of those tourists from America who were traveling all around Europe from one "attractive" destination to another, without any previous knowledge or meaning. I wanted to be able to connect with the locals, figure out the way they were living in their own environment; where they had their morning bagel and afternoon coffee. I wanted to be able to witness the change of the season in a different culture than my own where everything reminded me that I was ordinary and uninteresting. It was strange indeed, that I wanted to be an observer in an entirely different world than in the one I grew up in, so I would not be ordinary to myself or to the others. However much I admired this _other world_, I very much loved the one that gave me the opportunity to become me. Being a proud American was a great thing in the world some time ago. Now, people were being advised not to flash their Stars and Stripes while backpacking the world.

All of those dreams were why I spent so much time reading, exercising my brain, researching on web all the places I wanted to visit and get to know. Those were the reasons for the overload of AP classes so deliberately put to together to give me the upmost level of preparation for the journey of my life. High school was level one. Very important to get to solid Level two, called college. My Masters degree is Level three. I haven't yet figured level four, but I was certain that the final level of my plan landed me in Mediterranean Europe.

AP Latin Literature was very useful and combined with European History and Italian Language and Culture that I was planning to take in my senior year. I would need to talk to Edward Cullen about this. He was, after all, my peer counselor and we was so confident when he said he would help me with every aspect of my education.

Edward.

*sigh*

I was a mistress of conversions. My mind knew when the subconscious wanted to be liberated of the harsh discipline my mind managed to program when hormones would charge in to take over.

My future ideal life was always priority and only thinking of that could make my hormones shut up, yet not disappear. I knew that leaving my mother's house was mandatory to make conditions for the power of mind to be in charge once again.

Why was I so shallow and so self confident that there would not be a replacement in this small town for my last distraction and hormone turner? Edward Cullen could very likely be the most extraordinary boy I have ever met. Met so far, that is. And yes, unlike Phil, Edward was a boy, a young man if you insist. But when I would think of him, I would feel like a girl, so he needed to be a boy. I needed him to the boy so that I could be enough as a girl.

**A/N** I know this was short, but it was all Bella was willing to say and think for now. She is a doll and I love hanging out with her.

What about you? What do you think of this mess called The Lemonade? Any advice for teen/horny Bella? Tips on how to figure out Edward, make dreams come true?

I know there are not that many people reading this story, but if you do read it, do you like it? If so, why?

_Now, this is what I call creative begging for reviews_


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: The Lemonade  
**Author**: Chloe Fluer  
**Category**: Humor/Comfort/Romance  
**Rating**: M  
**Summary**: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)  
**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.

Homework took more time that I was planning it would. Apparently, the vacation of Calculus I took from the end of last semester pushed me out of the loop. When I came across the problem while slowing first set of assignment, I was stunned. I was the queen of readiness, if there was a slightest possibility that I would not be able to master anything assigned in homework, I would have help books lined up. This was disturbing. My mind went to Phoenix, to Brian Freedman. The dark side of Isabella Marie Swan was slowly uncovering itself. I was desperate enough over a little problem in Calculus homework to break a promise thatI made to myself; I would not be a first-class bitch to Brian, who was ever so sweet to me. My mind took me back to that evening when he kissed me, the evening I probably gave myself a concussion from banging the back of my head to the bathroom closet. The bump on the back of my head was there for over a week, reminding me about my sin.

Brian was also partly responsible for my confidence with Calculus. Once he introduced me to AP book guide for Calculus/Trigonometry/Geometry, I felt like Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, music and the arts. Well, I felt like Saraswati more when I would listen to Eric Satie. And to be completely honest, I never came up with enough patience to read the Vedas. I was very eager to read them, because in Sanskrit, Vedas mean knowledge – something I was very eager to attract to my world. Even if it were from the culture, I was very confused to read about and even when it came to mathematical problems – that I knew were all around in practical world – I never cared enough to give myself into the world of numbers and measures.  
Eventually, the book proved to be helpful one more time and I nailed homework. I knew I needed to start working ahead soon so that Calculus would not become an unnecessary problem in Forks High School. That Mr. Varner had a malicious look in his eyes and I could feel another pop quiz coming on soon. Being on top of the school material was essential.

The rest of the homework was indeed light. I reedited my essay for Italian about Italian music in The Baroque. I loved that paper. I still remember reading about it late into the night and listening to Vivaldi and bits and fragments of his opera "Il Giustino", and of course the famous "Four seasons".

The bad part of that paper was that I was too involved in writing and researching it, that I did not pay enough attention to spelling and tenses. The teacher, Ms Scali, handed me in the paper that very same day after lunch break, encouraging me to give it one more check. After all, I handed it in two days early, just in case. So, now I was sure it was perfect and I was done with Italian homework for this week.

Afterward, I called my mom. She was texting me all day and I was no being very generous with responses. It was all because someone managed to mess up my mind. Anyhow, Renee was hungry for information. She was angry that the DSL was not installed yet, because she wanted to try Skype and a web cam. She and Phil were doing fine and were both feeling weird without me in the house. Renee was honest enough to tell me how she only now realized that it was me all along making sure there was Brazilian coffee in the house.

"Sweetie, you shouldn't have been so attentive. It is a good thing, but sometimes you need to push for the credit."

What was I ssupposed to do? Ignore the lack of coffee? The fuel that ran my mother? That was just bad marketing, in my opinion.

I did not tell Renee about the mysterious MASEN port that I hooked up to the other night because I was sure it would not be open again, thought I really hoped it would be. My cell phone had very poor battery that I had to recharge every single day.

I turned my laptop on and kept telling myself: "It has to be there ! IT MUST BE" - almost like a mantra.

As my wallpaper said hello to me and my iCal reminded me of all the events coming up in January - the sound of PING made me jump out of my seat. My laptop made an automatic connection to MASEN network because, apparently I authorized it the last time as "safe". I could not remember doing that. What I could remember was being worried about my own stupidity of hooking on to an unknown server.

How I managed to glance to that pink book again was out this universe. I scanned to the contents of the book and there was the part called "Tackling your Technophobia", and the first chapter of it was "How To Love Your Computer". How-to books had the most hilarious chapter names. How to love your computer though...was just too much to consider seriously. Pointers about weather the Big Brother is watching us all were making chills come down my spine, and so was the thought of MASEN network. In the pink book, Bill Gates was quoted saying that often (dealing with computers), you are to rely on your intuition. My inner self was torn between doubts and thrill of the connection to the whole world out there. The world I was unhappy to leave, yet determined to do it. I knew that coming to the lost world of Forks was attached with difficulties, but only now have I realized how much of a spoiled teen I was. I couldn't adapt living without my precious resources.

Overtaken by impatience, I gave in.

There were e-mails to be answered and all those blogs I was used to reading. As last time, the connection was amazing. I opened over 30 tabs at once and my e-mail was overtaken by photos sent by Renee. She finally got on friendly terms with bluetooth on her phone and computer. My Italian teacher, Ms. Scali, sent me my old essays and some of her own presentations from her previous lectures. She wished me all the best in new high school and wrote me that she would miss me dearly, and if I ever needed any help or advice, that she was there for me.

Brian e-mailed me.

Of course he did.

He wanted to know how I was doing. Again. I starred his email. I would reply. I promised myself. Once I would have something to write him about, besides thinking about Edward's fingers and eyelashes. Brian wanted to stay in touch in case we might end up in the same university some day. I, on he other hand, could not remember what exactly did he want to major in. He was good at pretty much everything, and while he'd talked about his future, I'd think about him pressing his body against mine. Thoughts like those were disturbing to me. They made me feel weak and pathetic, but most of all I was shocked by the intensity of the sexual power that suddenly woke up in me. Like the volcanic eruption, but the date of the eruption was unclear. It was connected with arrival of Phil to my mother's life. The way I used Brian to satisfy my inner primal needs was just horrifying.

There were so many updates and new blog entries to read. There were videos tutorials with post-holiday diets and just before I left Phoenix, I subscribed to make up tutorial channel on Youtube. It was by a girl from Florida who used to blog on Xanga and had the most lovely skin and features. What I liked the most about her tutorials was the fact that she wasn't into prying over her collections of all kinds of make up, blushes etc. She was teaching and was pretty good at it. Very creative and helpful. I loved her Everyday Chick School Look; that for me worked as the top model apperance. Brian loved the way my eyelids sparkled in the moonlight that day I manage to pulled of that look. He had never seen me wearing make up before that one time. Only now I realize how cruel that was to him. I was giving him everything a teenage boy would want or need from a girl that would hold his interest.

Thinking about Brian made me feel bad. Of course, it was even worse now that Edward came so suddenly into the picture. How I managed to experience this day without crashing my head to the nearest wall in school was out of me.

The latest make-up tutorial was just amazing. If only I were able to get up in the mornings half an hour earlier… My make up box came its way to Forks so I gave this natural look a shot in front of my laptop, with a small mirror and the result was pretty good. I managed to make my pale complexion look healthy in evening light of foggy Forks. My lips were slightly darker for some reason. Well, darker than I remembered. Maybe it was just the cold air, the change of climate. I was so sure I wasn't imagining this subtle change in my physical appearance. So, I started to examine my ears, because I read somewhere that ears – like the nose – grow all your life. Still my nose looked the same, and so did my ears. Slightly pointy, but not enough to qualify for an elf.

Charlie's sudden arrival home from the station disturbed me for some reason. He was also getting used to seeing my face after opening the front door. I preferred to meet him downstairs than him yelling his salute right after stepping into the house. Charlie was weird that way, yet it was fun getting to know all his little ticks and vocabulary. He brought fish from La Push. Apparently, the chief of tribe, Billy Black, had this other fiend who made Charlie's favorite homemade fish fry.

So that's what we had for dinner. Charlie was good at making fires, which did not surprise me at all. He might have stocked this place right before I moved into his place, but his freezer gave away his eating habits and there were fish, burgers, pizzas and various microwave meals.

But he tried to change that, knowing I was peculiar on food. You are what you eat. Same can be said about what you read, but i think in this junk time, food is more important. I had nothing against burgers or fires. On occasion, one a week maybe, but being a daily meal - no way. I actually enjoyed homemade fried chicken, plus I enjoyed having fires and milkshakes with Renee after all a whole evening of shopping in probably the largest mall in the state of Arizona. For some reason, Phil completely understood this combination of salty fries and extra sweet vanilla milk shake. And Renee was so sure she would never find a guy with such twisted desire for food. I, on the other hand, never doubted the male ability to digest any kinds of tasty twisted combinations.

Charlie kept telling me about about fish recipes and how he never managed to make fish this good as this friend from La Push. Yet, the name of this cherished friend never escaped Charlie's lips. I did not want him to know I noticed this anomaly in his pattern of behavior. All the hours spent watching Criminal Minds and similar TV shows made me more observant of human behavior. My father's cheerfulness was radiant even while we took care of the dishes and the leftovers.

"So, the small-town school is working for you?" He winked at me while putting the dry plates in the cupboard.

"Yeah, it is not as bad as I dreaded it would be."

"Well, at least you surely don't have to worry about remembering hundreds of names. I am sure that there are not that more than two or maybe three dozen of students in your year."

"That's true. But I am in the age of the strongest brain activity, so memory storage should not be problem. Not at seventeen."

"Still, adaptation is they key for you now, isn't it? You will need to settle your classes, right? I don't know much about these things, it was a lot different in my time. Less complicated I would say."

"I think so too, dad. It is very competitive nowadays, but I think I am doing well." I shrugged and gave into the conversation.

"The principal, Mrs. Bailey is a well-respected in this small community and she was very helpful when I came to her with your transfer files. She was very impressed with your grades and report cards. But she was also a little sad…" he trailed off.

"Probably for the lack of AP classes in Forks High School. But, don't be upset about that, Dad. I am working on making it all good. There are many ways to make those points worth for college and with the right directions I will make it."

"So, have you talked to principal Bailey about all this?"

"Oh…no. No, I haven't. This lady in the administration office told me how the school has this peer counselor program."

"Is that like kids your own age help you with all the adjusting matters?" Charlie knew more of this, I could just feel it. Why was he pretending he didn't know?

"Something like that." I decided not to give in. If he wanted more, he had to come and get it himself.

"Hmmm… Who did you get?" Now I was sure. He already knew the answers to all these questions. How could I, for a second forget, I was in this small town and that Charlie probably had volunteers following me all around?

Well, I was not in the mood to give in to this game. If he was keeping up with me through various sources, he better deliver me some information that I wanted. I did not know how to deal with chief of police on this matter. His detective skills were usually well-hidden behind the friendly face.

Well well, Charles Matthew Swan, I am after all your daughter and I could never let you trick me. Not letting my eyes head up from the plate I casually said, "I am sure you already know not _only_ the person, but the family history as well, Dad."

I lifted my eyes carefully and peaked at my dad. He was staring at me. He was genuinely surprised that I figured him out so fast.

And after those few moments of weird staring, my dad did the most unexpected thing – he winked at me and gave me a huge smile .

"Now Bells, don't be too harsh on your old man. I was only looking out for you. First day only! I promise."

"Well you better spill it all out, Dad, that's the only right way to come clean and get forgiveness." I was half-teasing him. I had to have that tone in my voice to hide the wanting for information. I was sure a well-respected citizen such as Charlie was, knew all the people and most important – their stories.

"You got me kid, I am not going to pretend otherwise. That boy you got is a decent kid. Good family. I actually went to Junior High with his mom."

"Oh! So, the Cullens are from Forks?" I honestly could not remember that name from when I was younger. And I was so proud of my good memory.

"I don't know where Carlisle Cullen is exactly from. East coast? I don't know, to be frank."

That was one unusual name. Very old-fashioned. Edward's name was like from a novel, but Carlisle - I've never heard of anyone named Carlisle.

"Esme, the boy's mom, is from the outskirts of Forks. Very old family, the Evensons. I think only one of her brothers is still alive running that wrenched bank somewhere in Alaska. Very wealthy family, Bells. I guess every community has one of those. I was stunned when Esme came back from England. When she left right after graduation, we were all sure she was never coming back to this province. But that was a long time ago. You know, we should look into buying a dishwasher. I used to have one several years ago, but it was too much of a hassle and I gave it to charity. Nothing better to do before bed time but washing the dishes. Cleaning after the day."

He was right. I needed to refocus from all the Edward Cullen stuff. Just spelling his name in my head made me woozy. To think that earlier today I was frustrated with the idea of having a school colleague being my supervisor or adviser of any kind, let alone someone I knew nothing of. If I were honest with myself, the first day of school in this small town was more stressful than I was willing to admit to myself.

And it was certainly much more eventful then I could ever predict. What did make me happy was the amount of attention I was given. Apparently, I wasn't that interesting to the most popular figures in Forks High School, and I was thankful. Honestly, after careful consideration, I came to a conclusion that Jessica was most likely one of those girls who desperately wanted to be with the more popular crowds, but never realized how it would be so much easier on her to create her own group and be the popular head of it. Plus, I think the title "The Giant Curl" would suit her perfectly.

I wasn't entirely sure about Angela, but she wasn't pulling the shots on whatever was popular. As for Edward Cullen…well, I had no idea what his deal was. He certainly had his position in the high school food chain; I guess he was well-respected since he was allowed to be in that fancy peer counselor group, but the way he was acting out in the hallways made me wonder of his scale of acceptance. Yet I couldn't help to notice the interest The Giant Curl, more known as Jessica, showed to my possible involvement with Edward Cullen.

I could feel the Dobby moment boiling back. What was going on with me? When did I become an obsessive teen female!?! I realized that becoming hormonal and horny was part of being a teenager, but this Edward obsession was heading highway too fast. Self-control was essential for peaceful, fulfilling life.

And I was falling apart.

Not to mention, I was being overbearing and self-absorbed. So sure, I could be in charge of my life all the time, that these constant pop-ups of Edward in my head were so disturbing.

Only dreamless sleep could possibly save me.

**A/N** I want to thank all 12 of you who have this story on alert for not dropping me. I was rather busy with my finals, but I am getting it done this week I hope.

I hope you liked this chapter and I have a littler question for you.

Do you ever feel the need to act like Dobby from Harry Potter and bang your head against flat hard surface?

**Note from the beta, MrsKatyCullen, to readers: **Golden star and a kiss to the person who guesses the make up tutorial girl off Xanga : )


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